Should Have Been You
by AlphaWolfOfRed67
Summary: "It should have been you, not her." Those words just might be the last thing Dean says to his brother. Dean's vengeful and Sam's hurting and the Styne family? Well they just want a little piece of Winchester blood. Unfortunately for Sam, he becomes their newest experiment. Coda: 10x22 The Prisoner
1. Chapter 1

"It should have been you, not her." Those words just might be the last thing Dean said to his brother. Dean's vengeful and Sam's hurting and the Styne family? Well they just want a little piece of Winchester blood. Unfortunately for Sam, he becomes their newest experiment.

 ** _Coda: 10x22 The prisoner_**

A/N: I want to chew nails. Seriously. My teeth are grinding so hard. I can't believe Dean would say such a thing to Sam. I know its partly the mark but I think its Dean as well. I've read ever fanfic on fanfic net concerning this episode an I loved em! So I wanted to write my own. It followers The Prisoner but with alot of differences. Cuz lets face it, no one can stand the fact that this episode was just heart wrenching an we need a fix! So, will be 3 or 4 chapters!

 ** _Disclaimer-_ ** I do not own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester. Must I do this everytime...breaks my heart that I can't have them ...

Errors, typos and misspellings fixed. But will re-read to make sure! Just in case! Though I wont say my grammar is perfect =P

* * *

Sam felt numb as he stood there watching the wood, and charlie, burn. There were a mixture of different emotions that threatened to drown him in their depth of pain, sorrow, guilt and regret. They ate away at every fiber he had as his mind was a continuous re-run of unwanted thoughts and deep loss. He watched, as the flames danced around in a frenzy of red and orange, devouring everything in its path and undying rage. The smoke rolled up into the sky carrying the scent of burning flesh and wood with it. Sam couldn't help but think Charlie's soul was like the smoke itself, just extending up into the sky, up to heaven where she belonged. He couldn't help the tears that surfaced as he watched Charlie, the person who had grown close to the Winchesters, burn. The person that both Sam and Dean thought of as a little sister.

Deep down, Sam knew it was his fault. He was desperate, so damn desperate to save his brother from the harsh fate that waited at the end for him because of the mark. He didn't stop, he wouldn't stop, trying to rid his brother of the mark and he made the choice to call Charlie in a last effort to decode the Book Of The Damned because he knew she could. Charlie was smart, strong and Sam doubted there wasn't anything she couldn't do. So when Sam told her about Dean's situation, how he took the Mark Of Cain and how it changed him with each passing day, Charlie wasted no time agreeing to help her boys, as she put it. She was just as desperate to save Dean as Sam or Castiel was no matter what fate awaited her.

It was to late for amends, to late for a re-do. He would have to live with the fact that Charlie died because of him.

Sam swallowed, not sure if he could speak with the amount of guilt weighting heavily on his shoulders or the pain that stabbed like tiny knives in his chest. He wasn't sure he could speak without his voice cracking. "Charlie...we're gonna miss you." He said, able to keep his voice neutral but somehow as he spoke, each word made his chest ache a little more.

He didn't notice Dean's blank look as he stared at Charlie's lifeless, wrapped up body or the way his jaw clenched as Sam spoke, his mouth in a straight line.

"You were the best. I am so sorry..." Sam's voice shook as he continued to speak his peace only to be harshly cut off by Dean's hard words.

"Shut up." Dean's gaze didn't waver even when Sam's head turned in his direction, his brows drawn together and his eyes blinking in confusion.

Yet Sam knew exactly what was coming next. Dean's emotionless tone and unmoving eyes, the way his shoulders remained tense with barely contained anger, were all signs that Dean Winchester was pissed. The only difference was, the mark had changed Dean in so many ways and the anger that rolled off his brother in waves, his voice void, save for the coldness as he spoke, was not the Dean he knew. He was hard, cold and more distant then Sam has ever known Dean to be. Even after his time in hell, in purgatory, Dean came back a little off but he never lost himself to darkness. The mark? The mark was different. It was calling for Dean's inner demon and it made him the opposite of the person he used to be. Though Sam has seen the old Dean a number of times since he decided to bear the mark, even has he wore it on his arm, it was always over shadowed by the marks need to kill.

"You got her killed. You don't get to feel sorry for yourself." Dean stated, his hands in his pocket and refusing to look at his brother.

Sam shook his head, a look of hopelessness on his face as he looked back at the pyre. The flames were still tall, wrapping themselves around everything in their reach. "We were trying to save you..." He said low.

"I didn't need saving, Sam." Dean's first clenched tightly in his pocket. He could feel the mark growing hot against his skin, calling out to the monster he was slowly becoming, demanding blood. Sam's blood. "I told you to leave it alone." This time Dean's head moved towards Sam but his eyes were locked onto the ground.

Sam felt a pinch of hurt at Dean not being able to look at him but he couldn't say he blamed his brother. No, this one was on him. Charlie's blood was on his hands and there was no forgiving that but the disbelief in his voice was clear as he asked, "What was I suppose to do? Just, let you die?" He couldn't do that. He could never let Dean die.

"The mark isn't going to kill me." Dean's jaw clenched as he resisted the Marks temptation, its burning sensation a constant reminder of how quickly it could take control of him, as it throbbed painfully on his arm.

"Maybe not but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore. So of course I was going to fight for you because that's what we do." His voice quivered with the thought of Dean becoming something worse than a werewolf or vampire, and far more dangerous than a simple demon. Dean would be a demon but not like the normal run of the mill kind of demon but something more devastating and Sam doesn't want to relive that a second time.

The first time Dean became a demon was more than Sam could handle. If not for Castiel's quick appearance Sam's brain would have been splattered pretty red across the wall painted with his blood. An image that Sam couldn't keep from coming to mind after the first week of Dean's return. He was always on edge and jumpy whenever his brother entered a room or suddenly made his presence known when Sam was doing research. He was constantly afraid that the ritual didn't work and that Dean was that good at playing possum or that somehow Demon Dean would appear again. Either way, he couldn't help the spark of fear at seeing Dean until a week after. Each time Dean would apologize or send sad gazes his way that only made Sam want to hit himself for flinching whenever Dean got close. Despite Dean's cruel words and taunts, his attempt at ending his life without so much as slight hesitation, he knew that it wasn't Dean talking or doing those things but the demon.

He couldn't describe the sure relief and happiness at finally having Dean back and human. Not demon.

Dean's expression remained the same, not so much as a twitch of an eye. He just continued to stare at the died down flames.

Sam continued, desperate to get Dean to listen, to get some kind of reaction from him. "Listen, I had a shot-"

"Yeah you had a shot." Dean didn't let him finish what he was going to say. He looked past Charlie's body and somewhere off into the distance blankly for a moment before finally meeting Sam's huge eyes. "Charlie's dead. Real nice shot." He added sarcastically and Sam saw something pass in his brothers eyes that made an uneasy feeling swim around in the pit of his stomach.

There was a moment of silence as Dean's attention went back to Charlie. He didn't want to even be around Sam at the moment. He could barely hold his own anger without the Mark making its own wrath known but even with the resistance he found himself putting up against the feelings he couldn't control, the mark was winning. It always won and he suddenly had the strong need to pound Sam into oblivion. He was pissed, he was hurt but as the mark burned brightly making the area surrounding it hotter than fire itself, those emotions doubled and he found himself drawn to its bidding. Except, instead of pummeling his brother into the ground, wanting to feel bones crack under the force of his fist and blood to splatter coating his hand, he forced the temptation back and said something that was far worse than hitting Sam, who was saying, "Do you think, I would ever forgive myself for what happened?"

"You know what I do think?" He looked at Sam with hatred in his eyes, with the kind of look that Dean usually sent towards anything hurting Sam, now sent at Sam himself. "That it should have been you instead of her."

Sam's breath caught in his throat. It was like a punch to the gut knocking out the air from his lungs and he suddenly fount his chest burning with a sensation that had tears prickling from his eyes and rolling down his face before he could stop them. Dean has said many harsh things, both brothers have said things that were meant to hurt them and always had the impact that was expected, but never had Dean said something as harsh as the words that just left his mouth. Even if Sam knew he deserved Dean's anger he wasn't expecting those words to ever come from Dean. It was worse than Dean admitting he would hunt him and Sam remembers exactly how he felt when Dean stated that fact.

Sam opened his mouth like he was about to say something but quickly shut it. He didn't know what to say and if he did the shock and hurt making his heart beating fast and hard wouldn't let him. His voice was squeezed right out of him with how Dean really felt.

Dean looked at him with disgust and turned on his heels and started walking in the other direction. He didn't spare Sam another glance as he continued to put more distance between them. He didn't care if Sam was following or not, he highly doubted it, knowing what he had just said was enough to break his brother, and he didn't care. He didn't care that his choice of words emotionally ripped Sam apart or that he wanted to do serious harm to him physically. All that mattered is that Sam stay far away from him. With the mark pumping his head with vengeful thoughts and images of bloodbath, all he wanted at that moment was to kill every single member of the Styne family.

When he got to the impala, he opened the door and got in. His expression white hot with rage as he started the engine and put her in drive. The gravel crunched under the tires that spun out faster than the car could go, sending dust and bits of rocks thrown into the wind as he quickly flew from zero to eighty in four seconds. A smile on his face as he pictured a scene of the Styne family dead on the ground, killed by his very hands and his arm caught fire as he filed the mark with nothing but darkness in his heart.

Sam stood there. Expressionless. Dean's words still ringing in his head loud and clear. He couldn't stop the heart breaking sob that tore from his throat. It didn't even sound like his voice as he broke down. He fell to his knees on the grass. The air still smelled of smoke even though the fire was now small flames. He would blame the water works on the smoke but truth was, everything was his fault and the only thing he could think of is that Dean was right. It should have been Sam. Not Charlie. She didn't deserve it and if wasn't for Sam she would be safe. Alive. Somewhere far away from everything.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Charlie..."


	2. Chapter 2

Quick A/N: This is AU. I think? Lol it follows the episode but it is changed quite a bit, re-arranged and what not, doesn't happen in order kind of crap. But that's how I wanted it. Just to let ya know.

All typos, misspellings have been fixed! But will re-read to make sure! Wont promise my grammar is perfect though :P

* * *

Sam didn't know how long he'd been sitting on the ground, to lost in his own misery to really care. The fire long died away with nothing but the dark ashes of the burnt wood and of Charlie's remains left to take it's place. The air that had been carrying the burning of wood and flesh returned to its normal fragrance of clean untouched air. Sam continued to just sit there for moments later even when he was able to pull himself from his tormented thoughts because he still felt that same numbness that took a hold of him when he first found Charlie's dead corpse. Now though, it was more of a silent breaking as Dean's words kept haunting his sub conscious, repeating and taunting him and every time he thought, _'Dean hates me. He really doesn't care. Said so his self, it should be me burning. Not Charlie.'_

Sam rose to his feet. As much as he regretted Charlie's death, the guilt was eating him alive, he had to keep fighting for Dean. He would save his brother, at any cost. He wished he could change Charlie's fate and he would do it in a heart beat but the damage was done and he would never be able to forgive himself for that damage he caused. What he could do was make sure her death didn't go in vein and do everything to bring Dean back to himself. It's what Charlie wanted. So much so that she knew the stakes but still wanted to help because she, too, had grown fondly of the Winchesters. She was ready to go the highest lengths to decode the book of the damned and find something that would help Dean. Even at the last moments of her life she refused to give the Stynes what they wanted because she knew that if she handed over the one thing that could save Dean then he might be lost to them forever. She knew the moment whoever broke into the motel was when her life was going to end yet she still refused to give up the data.

Sam figured that had alot to do with the broken glass on the sink and floor. Charlie had busted the laptop in order to ensure no one could get that information.

Sam looked at the ashes that were being swept off the ground by the wind and carried off through the air. "Charlie. I hope you..." _I hope you are in heaven,_ was Sam's unsaid thought.

He watched the ashes rise into the sky just like the smoke had before they disappeared from sight.

"Goodbye Charlie." Sam sniffed and ran a hand down his weary face.

Sam turned around and walked in the same direction Dean went off in. He wasn't dumb. He knew the moment Dean got to the impala that his brother left without so much as a glance back. He wasn't surprised but it still hurt knowing just how fast Dean would leave and not even give a care towards Sam now a days. Not since the mark came into the picture.

It left Sam wondering that if he hadn't let Dean walk away before would Sam still find himself standing there now? It was the same answer everytime he thought about it. He wouldn't be standing there because Dean would have never took the mark if Sam hadn't allowed Dean to leave. Sam would have no reason to search for the book of the damned or get it decoded, and Charlie sure as hell wouldn't have died.

Just add that to the multiple fuck ups Sam keeps making.

Sam was a major fuck up.

Sam walked until he was standing near the spot the Impala had been. It left behind two black skid marks leading in one direction: Far away from him. Dean probably didn't think twice about leaving Sam behind, to seething, and to lost within the marks deep control as it morphed Dean's personality into one Sam didn't recognize anymore, as he took off not even thinking that Sam might need his bag that was left in the trunk of the car. Then again, Dean made it very clear that the once older brother who would die for his little brother was long gone replaced with one that couldn't stand him anymore.

At least it felt that way to Sam. He messed up countless times and he was always amazed how every single time Dean forgave him. Even if his brother was mad be it a few days to weeks time, Dean always forgave him.

 _Were brothers. Family, and that doesn't change Sammy._

Now, he may have messed up for good and Dean may never forgive him when he comes back to his senses.

Sam sighed deeply as he walked down the lonely road. He needed to get back to the bunker and quick. He was worried about Dean and just what he might do. His brother was not in his right mind at the moment. Sam knew he was in revenge mode and tracking down Charlie's killers. It wasn't that Sam was afraid that Dean could get into serious trouble, which is always a possibility, but he was far more concerned with how far Dean was going to go. Dean was a ticking time bomb of emotion and aggression and would not hesitate to slaughter anyone in his way. It didn't matter if that person might be innocent or not because in Dean's eyes there was only kill, kill, kill. The mark acted like a trigger and all it took was one pull. Dean was the bullet. Even if there was still a part of Dean in the man he is now, it didn't matter as long as he had that symbol on his arm. The lengths he would go was unlimited and it scared Sam.

When the mark is removed he knows the old Dean will remember everything he's done and it would destroy him.

Sam's going to shelter Dean from that as much as he can.

•••Supernatural•••

Castiel was not the type of person to take things likely and he certainly wasn't the type of man to be easily swayed by anything but the sight that greeted him upon entering the Stynes estate had him at a loss for words. He knew what Dean was capable of. Even before he got the mark. Dean could be downright terrifying especially when it came to the people he cared about. Castiel as witnessed Dean's show of emotion whether it be one of aggression, happiness or terrified and so on. He knew the many faces of Dean and Sam Winchester but recently he's seen a new side of Dean he's never seen and that terrified the angel.

It's true that he knew the story behind Cain. He knew of the mark and the burdens that were brought with it. He didn't know everything but he knew enough and as soon as he learned that Dean wore it visibly on his arm he couldn't help the fear that entered his usual calm demeanor. Fear because nothing good could come out of Dean's horrible decision that was more of a mistake, and fear for what it meant for his friend.

He got attached to the Winchesters rather quickly after he met them. Surprizing himself. He wasn't suppose to form any kind of bonds. He had a job and was determined to see it through yet somewhere along the way that didn't matter because Sam and Dean became his friends. His family.

Now he was trying to save Dean from a harsh fate as him and Sam raced to find a cure and lift the mark from Dean. To purify him of the evil that's gotten itself latched on the older Winchesters heart in hopes to bring Dean back to himself.

Before it's to late.

Castiel questioned whether it was already to late as he walked past the several deceased, bloodied bodies on the floor of the estate. There was blood coating everything, making everything shimmer in red scarlet. The walls were splattered with it and the floor there were puddles of it and there were more areas covered in it than there was bare made walking past the bodies very difficult. He felt no sympathy or sorrow for them as they have tortured several souls without mercy. It didn't stop him from casting sad eyes at them as he realized what it meant.

Dean delivered his own kind of judgment in the most brutal way. This Dean was not the Dean he grew so fond of and he didn't know if there was anything left of the old Dean to save as he took in what must have happened in the building. It made Castiel's stomach twist and turn, which was an odd feeling, one he wasn't used to.

"Dean. How could you." He said out loud eyeing the corpses. Their injuries were horrific, a death that wasn't fast but painful.

Castiel tore his gaze away from them, no longer wanting to see the damage inflicted on them by Dean's hands. He continued to step forward, mindful to dodge the dark stains on the floor until he came to a stairway. He opened the door and was greeted with a stairway. He walked down, cautiously, not wanted to alert Dean or anyone else that might still be in the building. It took less than a minute to reach the bottom and the image that greeted his sapphire orbs was similar to the one he was met it upstairs. Except the body count wasn't as high bit it was still a harsh sight.

"This isn't good. I have to call Sam." Cas took out his phone. He immediately tracked Dean's GPS first and was shocked to realize where his destination was. North. Straight back to the bunker.

Fear for Sam's safety had the angel dialing Sam's number more quickly than normal.

After several rings, it went straight to voice mail.

"This is Sam, leave a-" Cas ended the call and tried again only to get voicemail twice in a row.

If Cas wasn't an angel of the lord still, he was pretty sure he would have cursed in frustration and worry. In seconds Castiel vanished.

•••Supernatural•••

Sam made it back to the bunker after an hour and wasted no time going to the bunkers dungeon. He was hopeful because while he was driving to get back, having stole a car from a parking lot to do so, his phone had gone off alerting him of an incoming message. What he saw on the screen had him slamming on the brakes, his breath catching in his throat and his heart pounding fiercely against his chest. He had received a message from Charlie and it was exactly what he needed to save Dean if it was what he thought it was. He felt two things at that moment. An ache at remembering what it had cost Charlie to get it to him and pride for she had done it. She was able to decode the book of the damned!

Sam opened the door to the dungeon. Rowena was sitting with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. She spoke opening them slowly to peer at an approaching Sam. She smiled knowingly at him. "Well. Back Sam? I take it things didn't go quite as planned." She drawled out slowly.

Sam filled the distance between them. He didn't play on her taunt as he pulled the seat out and sit next to her. He held up his cell phone with Charlie's last message pulled up on the screen. He watched as Rowena's expression was one of annoyance before it did a one-eighty as soon as her eyes locked with the screen. She knew exactly what it was as realization dawned on her. "oh. She done it. She cracked the code."

"Can you read the book with this or not?" Sam asked impatiently, the closer they get to finding a cure the faster they can save Dean. There was no time to waste.

She moved her gaze from the phone to Sam. She confidently smirked. "With this the Mark Of Cain is as good as gone."

Real hope filled his chest and the relief he felt was over powering. They were going to save Dean.

The phone in his hand suddenly vibrated and rung.

"Oh. Your angel is calling." Rowena noted pointing at the screen where she could see it perfectly where it was being held up in front of her.

"Forget it." He said about to question her more when the phone rung again making Sam sigh.

"I really think you should answer that." She said raising a brow. "Oh. Nevermind." She rolled her eyes as a flutter of wings filled the room.

"Sam-"

"Cas!" They said in union. "Charlie did it. She cracked it man."

Castiel's eyes widened at the news but as happy as he was about having the cure they needed to save Dean there were more pressing issues. "This is good but Sam im afraid Dean has already killed the Stynes."

Sam eyed the angel. "What?"

"I went to the estate. There were more than a dozen dead. He killed them. Brutally. It wasn't pretty." Cas stated the truth still seeing all the blood that had decorated the walls and floor in his head.

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was to late. Dean had killed them. He didn't know what that would do to Dean. The more he spiraled out of control the closer Dean got to completely succumbing to the mark. "Dammit Dean."

"Sam. Dean's coming here."

Sam froze. Dean was coming back to the bunker.

Sam shouldn't have been scared but he couldn't deny the fear at knowing Dean was coming home. They were on shaky ground and with Dean fueled by anger and the need for blood, he wasn't all that positive Dean wouldn't hurt any of them in his outrage. "Cas. Go. Clean up the mess back at the estate. Were so close. We can't let Dean ruin it." He made a decision.

Cas tilted his head in confusion. Worry shined brightly in his eyes. "Sam, no. Dean won't hesitate to kill and he wont hesitate to hurt you or worse."

San nodded, already knowing that. "I know. I know Cas but im going to save Dean. No matter what." He said with complete belief that they will rescue Dean.

Cas hesitated. He didn't think leaving was such a good idea but one look at Sam, his expression desperate and fearful, with determined eyes none the less, Cas smiled sadly and agreed. "I will be back. Please Sam. Don't make Dean mad." He asked still weary about leaving Sam alone.

"To late for that Cas..." Sam muttered low but not low enough Cas didn't hear what he said.

Rowena listened to their conversation noted the emotion in the room. "I do love the drama." She spoke out in amusement but was ignored by both Sam and Castiel.

It was then something clicked in Cas's brain. He was looking at Sam questionably. "Sam. Where is Charlie."

The look on Sam's face was heart wrenching. Cas saw the deepness in his hazel orbs that held a variety of emotions. One in particular he see above the rest. It was sorrow and Cas instantly knew the answer to the question as Sam looked down at the floor with guilty eyes. "She's dead...I'm sorry."

Sam bit his lip, feeling the earlier Feelin of guilt resurfacing full force. "Because of me. She died because of me."

"Sam. No-"

A loud crash from upstairs caught all their attentions. Whatever Cas was about to say died on his tongue and he looked at the stairs with concern. Sam doing the same.

"Cas. Go. Now." Sam Said, whispering out of instinct.

"Be careful Sam." He said before disappearing from the room.

Sam sighed again. He felt his hands shake as he took his gun out from its confinement and held it down at his side. He gripped it forcefully and walked over to the stairs, his steps slow and quiet. He knew with each step he took was a step closer to his brother who might not be his brother anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I wanted to thank you guys! It actually got feedback not even 30 minutes after I posted it. I'm so glad yall like it so far! It'll be a few more chapters long. Thanks to those who reviewed and put it on their favorites or added it on alert. Thanks so much!

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Sam continued forward up the stairs, completely forgetting the witch. His heart was pounding in his chest at the thought of Dean. He still couldn't get his brothers cruel words out of his mind as they stuck there like glue and more dangerous than the plague. His frame was tense as he gripped the firearm in his hands. His mind was anything but calm as he took the steps one at a time with caution, making sure not to make a sound. He was afraid of just how Dean had returned to the bunker, if his brother was still filled with unearthly rage with nothing but blood on his mind or if he was somewhat back to normal, and couldn't help the flow of continuous thoughts. There were so many swimming around in his mind that it made Sam feel dizzy. He was glad for the book of the damned would serve the answer to Dean's problem. Hopefully. Sam still didn't know what all the book contained in it's thousand year old pages. Still, it was a chance and one Sam was willing to take.

He heard a distant voice he couldn't quite make out causing him to stop in his advance, one foot planted on the next step in front of him. His eye brows came together in confusion as he listened carefully for any other sounds coming from the main room of the bunker.

"Anyone in here?" The voice was louder, closer and Sam took a deep breath because it certainly didn't belong to Dean and definitely not familiar.

The wheels in Sam's brain turned and a sudden realization struck him. Piecing two and two together, it was definite that the Stynes had found the bunker. It also meant that Dean hadn't killed all the family like Cas had thought and Sam wondered just how many of them were there. It was the only answer he could come up with. Sam only hoped There wasn't more than he could handle. Dean wasn't there to back him up if he got himself in a pinch.

Sam felt that familiar pain in his chest. He doubted Dean would even care. Dean was definitely not the same person he used to be. He didn't want to admit it but Dean was changing and all Sam can do is watch as it happened. Unable to even stop it as Dean went out of control sinking deeper and deeper into that darkness that clung so desperately on him and not wanting to let go. Sam saw it soon after Dean returned, the hollow look in Dean's eyes, the constant scratching at his arm and gritting of teeth when he thought Sam wasn't looking. Each time Sam knew that it wouldn't end well for either of them when the mark did finally take Dean under full control.

A scary thought indeed.

Sam heard more noises and kept his pace steady and climbed the remaining stairs till he reached the slightly jarred door. He felt uneasy and nervous. He wasn't sure who it was in the bunker or how many of them there were. It didn't matter because Sam wasn't going to let them get whatever they were looking for and he wasn't about to let them destroy his home.

Him and Dean's home.

He pushed the door open slowly to ensure it wouldn't squeak. He glanced in both directions. He honed in on those hunter instincts that would never go away and focused on his surroundings like he was in a whole different place. His hands didn't shake quite as bad and his hold on the gun was strong and firm as he held it out in front of him, ready to take aim and fire in an instant as soon as the danger was well in sight.

Both ways were clear but he didn't drop his guard as he walked down the hall. He was on full alert.

•••Supernatural•••

Dean gripped the steering wheel so hard he could swear he put hand shaped dents in it. He had done it. He had killed the Styne family and avenged Charlie but that anger that rolled around in his belly didn't suffice. It seemed to grow stronger as his arm burned with dissatisfaction and craved more. Craved more blood, more pain. More death and it was a constant voice inside his head that kept telling him to kill and making him more deadly than before. He could feel it moving around inside his body, itching and crawling at his skin as it longed for release. The mark gave him power and authority. No one could get in his way and if they did it would be the last thing they ever did.

Dean closed his eyes. His breathing was fast and came in short pants as he tried to regain control over what the mark wanted him to do and trying to fight his thoughts that were getting easily over powered by the mark's. He wanted to care, a part of him will always care but it didn't mean nothing when all he felt were anger and hatred. Any other emotion was like a fog in his mind, so fuzzy, so blurred, losing themselves to the darker feelings.

"Dammit!" Dean brought his hand up and just as fast brought it back down and hit the steering wheel with more force than necessary.

He had to focus.

 _"You're to late. Your friends, your family are all..."_

He didn't give Frankenstein the time to finish. He was to lost in anger that he didn't care what came out of the mans mouth. However, he realized that he wasn't one-hundred percent sure that he killed the entire family. It hit him like a perfectly aimed punch that while he was wrapped up, literally, dealing with the Stynes that he didn't think about the possibility of someone going to the bunker.

He looked in the rear view mirror and his reflection stared back. There was splatters of red on his face, dried blood, making his skin look paler than usual. His eyes dark.

He didn't like what he was seeing.

He didn't like what he was feeling because it was all he ever felt.

He didn't like what he was becoming.

His thoughts went to his brother. Even as angry has he felt, something over-shadowed that and it was guilt. He pretty much told Sam he wished he was dead and at the time it didn't register to him that he spoke those words to his brother. He wasn't exactly him at the time. All he saw was red, white hot burning in his belly, as he stared at Charlie's dead body and how he wanted nothing more than to hurt Sam right then and there. Sam wasn't his brother but just anything person that Dean would kill in an instant. Luckily, he was able to do no harm to Sam physically but emotionally it was like stabbing Sam in the heart with a very sharp knife. The words he said? It was the worst kind of cruelty man could do because while getting hurt physically can make tears roll down your face, emotional blows are wounds far deeper, far repressed and far more painfully than any wound done to flesh and bone. His words had made contact with Sam's heart and mind, he kew that, he knew when he left his brother alone standing in field that Sam was repeating Dean's words over and over in his head. What really worried Dean was the fact Sam would take his words to the grave and believe them heartedly.

Dean closed his eyes, the anger slowly fading from his features as something new and familiar took its place. A feeling that now seemed foreign to him but still clearly there. A feeling that always etched its way up Dean's spine whenever warning bells went up. It was something, no matter how far he lost himself in the marks rage, that would always be there. Despite what he says or does because even though its influenced by the curse on his arm, Sam was his brother so that same feeling was clawing its was to the surface.

He wasn't far from the bunker and he hoped he wasn't to late. He wasn't sure where Sam was but he prayed the kid wasn't there because there was no telling how many of the Styne family was still alive.

His eyes sparked furiously with a new kind of rage, the one that said 'mess with my brother and ill kick your ass' kind of fury. He stepped on the gas till the petal touched the floor. The engine came to life going from a soft purr to a raging roar as it was pushed to its limits.

"Hold on Sammy." Dean silent said under his breath.

He had some serious apologizing to do and he would do just that as soon as he killed the remaining Stynes that threatened to hurt his family. His forearm went to red hot burning in aggression.

•••Supernatural•••

Sam stopped dead in his tracks. He pressed his back up against the wall and lowered his gun, his arms resting against his side as he kept the weapon trained in the direction of the voices, more than one he dully noted.

"Hey. This isn't a damn library. You're not here to read." A harsh voice said followed by a much softer and younger than the first. "Yeah. Actually it is." It was said a bit sarcastically.

Sam could tell the second voice belonged to someone young, probably not even in their twenties. He also noted the way the boy sounded. There wasn't anything harsh or evil about it. He just sounded like a teen who liked to read obviously but the other one was much different in comparison, opposite of the kid.

"No reading. Box it."

He imagined whatever the kid was holding being taken from his hands as he said, "Dude," in disbelief.

Sam heard movement and knew they were no longer standing in the place they were before. He heard a smack and then,

"Man up. Look, im going to go check out their sex dungeon. Stay and finish up." It was an order that held no argument.

Sex dungeon? Sam had to wonder how they came up with that one.

He listened as the footsteps retreated off into the opposite direction, the sound getting farther away before disappearing completely.

He took a deep breath, willing his brain to quit sleeping and formulate some kind of plan. He was positive Dean would be there shortly considering GPS was pointing in the direction of the bunker. He had to get them out one way or the other because when Dean comes back there was no telling what he would do to them. It wasn't like they didn't deserve it. The Styne family killed hundreds of people without mercy, getting fascination from it but everytime Dean killed he was closer to becoming the one thing neither of them ever wanted to become. He was one step closer to becoming a monster and Sam wanted to prevent that as much as possible.

Sam was about to move when he heard the unmistakable sound of a guns discharge bouncing off the walls of the bunker and echoing in the air moments before he felt a sharp pain pierce his shoulder. It was agonizing and he couldn't bite down the gasp that found it's way out of his mouth. He was shot. Again. The pain flared up and he knew that it hit bone.

"Well. I guess someone was here. Let me guess. Sam, right?"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: There are mistakes! Misspellings and what not but I WILL FIX EM lol So I've changed quite a bit from the episode! So if ya don't like changes I wouldn't read XD Also I'm not sure if Cas has his mojo and what not but in my story he does! So he can zap anywhere he wants and all that good stuff. So I wanted to thank the reviewers for showing their support! Thank you so much! Enjoy! One more chapter to go guys!

* * *

Sam glared at the man in front of him, a mixture of shock and anger in his pain filled eyes. His shoulder hurt like a bitch, the blood was seeping slowly out of his body, where it should be, and coating his brown coat with a sickly coating of red, the gun he previously had in his hand dropped to the floor with a clang. He's been shot way to many times, some worse than others. Sometimes they were mild pain and easily taken care of with a first aid kit but ones like the wound he just received would no doubt need a cast. Those were the ones Sam hated most. It wasn't because of the pain, which was pretty intense, sweat starting to form on his forehead and his shoulder felt like he had stuck a hot iron to it, but because when it came to hospitals Sam hated them.

Ever since their father died, Sam hated hospitals. There was a swirl of emotions that lit themselves a blaze inside him, affecting Sam in ways that he couldn't even comprehend at first. The confusion of what happened came first. Their father was fine, up and talking with as much strength as he usually had yet when Sam stepped out to get coffee he didn't expect to walk by Johns room just to see the man on the floor. Sam's whole body seemed to freeze as his gaze swept over to John's lifeless form and his mind went blank. A switch was flipped, Sam was running, the coffee long forgotten as it slipped from his grip and splattered on the floor. He was calling, screaming help, before he was falling to his knees. Then he was shaking John roughly, repeating over and over, 'No, no, you can't do this.' Even before he checked for a pulse that wasn't there, before he was greeted with cold skin instead of the familiar thump, thump. He knew John was dead.

Then the sorrow and regret replaced any other feeling as it ate away at skin and bone, torturing him with his own miserable thoughts. He had picked a fight with John and didn't think twice about it. He was so angry at their father. Angry, for pushing the hunting life on his two sons and at such a young age. Angry, that he wasn't the kind of father a normal kid should have but most of all he was saddened by the fact him or Dean could never have that normal life and that just angered him more. They deserved it didn't they? They didn't deserve the life that was forced on them because John couldn't let that thirst for vengeance go. So he lashed out with all those thoughts running free in his mind fueling his to silent, for to long, rage.

Little did he know it would be the last time he spoke to John.

Sam beat himself up for weeks on end with regret and Dean's constant jabs of hurt filled words didn't help how he already felt. He couldn't say Dean wasn't right though. All Sam did was run away, run away on the hunting life, run away from John and even ran away from Dean.

"I didn't think anyone would be here. Then again I don't know much about you Winchesters." The guys voice was like ice, cold and hard and didn't hold an ounce of warmth.

He was so screwed.

Sam hissed as he moved back a step. His arm was useless now and was dead weight at his side. "Listen to me. Coming here was stupid. You should leave while you have the chance." He tried to sound intimidating at best as he stared at the man still holding up the gun and pointing straight at his chest.

He raised a brow and laughed. "Oh yeah because you can totally kick my ass." He was sarcastic and he wasn't at all intimated by Sam's remark. "How about instead I take you with us. The fun that we will have."

Something in the way the guy said it made Sam's blood run cold. He knew what the Styne family considered 'fun' and no way in hell was he going to become their lab rat but then again something about that seemed justified. Since finding Charlie's bloody body in the motel room Sam was spread guilty but when Dean said he would have died instead, well, that just hit every nerve in his system. It was like the strings of a fine guitar being snapped in two and cutting off it's beautiful melody and Sam felt that same broken symphony as the weight of Dean's words finally pulled him under.

Dean didn't care if he died.

Dean didn't care.

Sam's body suddenly felt very tired. It's funny how much his shoulder throbbed like his racing pulse but at that moment the only pain he really felt was the one in his chest. He was pretty sure that was because his heart was breaking into a million shattered pieces.

"Do whatever you want. I don't care." His voice came out defeated as he used the wall to keep himself from doubling over.

He clutched his shoulder tightly, a part of him hoping the physical trauma of the wound would take away all the emotional strain he was feeling. The blood slicked through his fingers leaving a warm trail of scarlet rolling down his hands.

"What's this? I was under the influence that you Winchesters were tough. Something about not knowing when to give up? Seems to me you are no better than any other person around." The guy taunted taking a step towards Sam who stayed exactly where he was, no fight left in him.

Sam grunted and smirked. "Whatever you say." He wasn't going to argue with the guy, who, didn't take that Sam's response lightly as he filled the distance between them.

Sam grunted again but this time it was because of the harsh pull on his hair, his head ranked roughly to the side. The guys face was right next to his and he had a look of rage in his eyes as he stared Sam down who never let his own hateful glare waver.

"You think you're smart don't you? Well, obviously so did that pretty girl with the red hair." He purred, taunting, edging for Sam to respond to his words in a violent way.

Sam's breath caught in his throat at the mention of Charlie. The anger and guilt from before was back and he gave one of Dean's tight glares that his brother always used when his wrath was unleashed and he delivered hell on the poor saps who got on his bad side. It was damn scary and Sam knew first off just how intimidating Dean could be. Sam was mirroring that same image as he eyed the man with aggression and pure hatred. "Shut up." He demanded calmly but it was loud to even his own ears as he tried to contain his composure. He didn't want to give the guy the satisfaction of giving the response he wanted which was quickly thrown from his mind with his next statement.

"I enjoyed it you know. Kicking down the door with nothing but the thought of wrapping my hands around her pretty little neck and squeeze the life from her body. The look on her face when I did was beautiful. She was so scared. She put up a fight though but wasn't enough. She died." he whispered the last part in Sam's ear.

Sam lashed out, throwing a punch at the Styne with all his strength which he realized was less that he was capable of doing at the moment thanks to the still flowing wound in his shoulder.

Styne caught Sam's wrist easily. "There we go. Fight." He twisted Sam's arm around till it touched the middle of his back and slammed him up against the wall in one rough push.

He clenched his teeth when the action sent white hot pain through his shoulder and caused his ribs to protest violently.

"You'll definitely be fun to break."

Before Sam could retort, say something along the lines of, 'Im already broken,' he felt a pain in the back of his head. His body jerked and he fell to the floor in a unconscious heap, unable to fight the black oblivion that suddenly seemed anxious to meet him. Try as he might, he couldn't stop the black edges forming in his vision that grew bigger and bigger until black was all he saw.

His last thought being, _maybe you'll get what you want after all Dean._

•••Supernatural•••

Dean was five minutes away from the bunker. He ignored every speed sign and red light that tried to stop him. The accelerator was to the floor as he sped well past the posted limit. He had a gut feeling something was wrong. He had forgotten what it felt like to be worried. He spent the last couple of months staying angry and bitter as the mark consumed him whole heartedly, body and soul. Sam didn't matter, Cas didn't matter, hell the whole world didn't matter and when he died, waking up with pitch black eyes and a heart far from beating, everything he was before was wiped clean with the new monster Dean became. A demon, a knight of hell, a heartless s.o.b, the very thing they hunted.

Dean remembered everything he done as a demon. He remembered the feeling of absolute power and zero worries as he killed without mercy. He didn't care and what would have bothered him before didn't bother him at all. If anything, it made him feel strong and superior like nothing could take him down. He was his own person and did whatever he felt like doing. Dean had to admit, it felt good at the time. No feeling guilty for decisions that ended up haunting him, or having to constantly worry about Sam or the next monster that came around and if they would make it out alive. He felt free and it felt right.

As soon as he was back, the black eyes disappearing for good along with the demon side, the guilt came back full force because he did remember everything. What really hit his core most was how he almost killed Sam. He actually enjoyed their little game of cat and mouse, Sam running away from him in fear and Dean chasing as he taunted Sam, before he finally found him only to swing a hammer aimed right at his head. He didn't even hesitate, wanting to bash Sam's head in as he pictured Sam's brain matter on the wall but Sam of course dodged it.

He was never more thankful that Sam's hunter instinct was on cue, accurate.

He was even more thankful that Cas had good timing. If not for the angel then Sam would have died by Dean's hands. That would have really destroyed him.

"Almost there. Come on, baby." Dean urged the Impala to move faster.

"Dean."

Dean almost slammed on the brakes at the sudden voice that spoke his name. He jumped in surprise before turning his head in the direction of the passenger seat only to see a confused looking Cas staring at him blankly.

"Dammit, Cas. We talked 'bout this remember? No zapping up unexpectedly and certainly not around me." He cursed and refocused his attention on the road. "Why ain't you with Sam?"

Cas didn't answer at first. He was at a loss for words. He had left Sam at the bunker to clean up Dean's mess at the estate before he decided to check the GPS. Even though he was sure it was Dean that came home he had an unnatural sense of alarm in the pit of his stomach. He was shocked to see Dean was still moving towards the bunker and it sent a new kind of panic flooding his sense. If Dean wasn't there then who was? It struck him that he had no proof that the entire Styne family had been disposed of. Could be that the were still a few alive and Sam might just found that out in a matter of time.

"Dean. I thought you were at the bunker." He said simply.

Dean eyed him. "Obviously im still heading there. What's going on Cas." His tone was calm but Cas noted the tension there, too.

"Dean. I went to the estate. I wanted to ask you something but it will have to wait. For now we need to get back to Sam." He answered not giving Dean a direct answer but by the way Dean's shoulders tensed and his eyes narrowed he got the message.

It was true after the scene he entered at the estate that he wanted to question Dean, to question the mark. He knew without a doubt Dean had lost himself again to the marks desire. Even if it was feeding on Dean's emotions, the old Dean would not have went so far and slaughtered them in such a way. The mark was like a vampire and instead of blood it feed on Dean's feelings, his sadness, his misery and his anger. It made Dean someone to fear.

Dean caught Cas's gaze. "I know. Apparently I didn't kill all of those sons of bitches. I won't make that mistake twice and if they so much as lay a finger on Sam." He gripped the steering wheel in a vice grip.

Cas looked at Dean's arm and even through the clothing he could see a light penetrating from the material. The mark was glowing brightly as it honed in on Dean's threat. "Dean. You need to calm down." He said calmly, not sure if he should even say anything concerning the light on his arm.

"I am calm!" Dean snapped causing Cas to flinch, ignoring it Dean also added, "Why the hell are you here anyway? You need to get back to Sam."

Cas nodded. He should have went back to the bunker but Sam made it clear that he wanted to make sure Dean was safe and hadn't went to far. Once he realized Dean was still on the road he had to make sure Dean was still Dean. "Sam was worried for you. We thought you made it home when we heard noises upstairs from where we were."

Dean took a deep breath. His arm was burning but he managed to ignore it. "You're telling me that the Styne's are already there?" He asked dangerously low.

Cas blinked. He felt the presence of the mark growing stronger. It wouldn't be long before the anger gripped Dean like it had before and caused him to go on a rampage, killing the Styne's and possible even Sam. "Yes. I believe they are. Like I said we thought it was you so I left to attend to another matter."

Something lethal passed through Dean's eyes as he pushed the car to go faster. His thoughts were already filled with ways to torture the remained family. He was going to kill them fast but if they did anything to Sam he would make them suffer. When he's done with them they are going to wish they never met them.

•••Supernatural•••

Eldon bent down and grabbed the discarded gun off the floor.

"Eldon! What was that shot-" Roscoe came to a halt, his sentence dying on his tongue when he seen the unconscious man laying on the ground and his cousin standing over him.

"Apparently the other Winchester was still here. Were taking him back to the house so we can have a little fun with him." Eldon smiled, imagining all the pain he could inflict on the hunter.

Roscoe nodded. "With luck the other one is long dead so we don't have to worry about that."

"Yeah. Help me get him into the truck." Eldon with the help of Roscoe managed to pick Sam's long frame up off the ground, one wrapping his hands under Sam's arms and the other lifting him up by his legs.

"Man he's heavy." Eldon grunted with effort.

Roscoe laughed. "I don't think its fat either. He's healthy which means he wont die to quickly before we get started."

They carried Sam out of the bunker and to the black S-10. They dropped him none to gently on the ground, gaining a groan of displeasure from Sam who remained unconscious. Eldon dropped the tail gate and grabbed some rope. Handing it to Roscoe he nodded his head. "Tie him up."

Roscoe grabbed Sam's wrists and twisted them around and tied them behind his back before doing the Sam to his legs. They picked him back up and threw him back into the bed of the truck.

"Go. See if you can find anything useful and torch the rest. With a set up like this they have to have something of value in this dump." Eldon demanded.

"Right. Well what are you going to do?" Roscoe asked curious to what his cousin had in mind.

Eldon smirked. His gaze swept over the unconscious lump in the back of his truck before looking at Roscoe. "I got a score to settle. Thanks to them I lost an arm. I plan on returning the pain in full."

Roscoe, understanding that Eldon planned on leaving them to clean out the bunker, nodded his head in agreement. With one final look at Sam who remained dead to the world around him, he turned around and walked back towards the door.

"Remember, burn everything." Eldon reminded him before he walked back into the man of letters bunker.

Eldon got into the truck and started it. He wasted no time putting the bunker in his rearview mirror. He had a sinister grin plastered on his face. The things he was going to do to the Winchester excited him to no end. He was sure by the time he was done with Sam that he would be a bloody mess of remains on a cold, hard table.

•••Supernatural•••

Cyrus was still frozen in place after hearing a gun shot ricochet through the bunker like an echo bouncing off the walls. Except, much, much louder and knew his cousins had found someone. Whether whoever they found were still alive or not was a mystery but he highly doubted that the person was still breathing. His family were monsters and he loathed them with a passion. He didn't understand why they did the things they did, he could never understand their sick fascination and need to kill another person. It was as if the light dying from someone's eyes, their blood pouring out of their veins just to rest underneath them, Was pure entertainment for them.

Well Cyrus was different. He didn't belong in the family because he didn't think they did. He cared about human life and he never once considered taking a life and destroying it. All that ever mattered to him was school, college, his future accomplishments. He wanted to be somebody someday and he never wanted to be a part of what his family considered normal and right. To him, it was wrong. Very, very wrong and it sickened him yet he couldn't stand up to his family. He couldn't tell them that what they were doing was wrong and how they all deserved to burn in hell for their inhuman actions. Why? Cyrus was terrified of them.

He was threatened by his own father that if he didn't live up to the family name and take on the role of a Styne then instead of someone else on that operating table it would be him. The sheer thought made him want to vomit. He didn't want to go through with that pain. He had so many things he wanted to accomplish, to do, that he didn't want to die quite yet.

So what did he do? He allowed his fathers voice to get in his head and, with his fathers hand gripping his to the scalpel, he was guided into cutting open human flesh. Even though the person laying on the table was a bully, one that had knocked him to the ground and threatened to beat him up, he'd never wish that on anyone.

Cyrus still held the book he had been previously interested in, in his hands. He didn't seem interested in it now. He sighed and dropped it to the ground but something else caught his eye and he was bending down in front of all the discarded books. He picked up a medium picture frame out of curiosity.

He sighed heavily. It was a photo of three men, two preferably being the Winchesters. He felt a pinch of sorrow for them but also a tinge of jealousy. Give or take, they looked happy, unburdened by the dark secrets his family kept locked away in the dark. He would give anything to have a loving, peaceful family. He felt sorrow because thanks to his family, they were provably already dead.

•••Supernatural•••

Roscoe continued walking through the bunker. He was amazed at the size of the building and how much free space there was to move around. It had multiple rooms as well. Maps and cut out pictures hung on the walls held by thumb tacks near the several now empty book shelves attached to the wall that held thousands of books and secrets, those very books laid out in a pile on the floor to be burned.

He noticed one of the closed doors and went to see what things it hid behind its four walls.

•••Supernatural•••

Cyrus placed the picture gently back on the ground. His mind was raging with thoughts he couldn't control.

"So. Found Dean Winchesters room. Sex dungeon forgotten." Roscoe's voice made it's self known and Cyrus turned to see his cousin walking onto the room carrying a box that he placed on the table.

"Wait. Where's Eldon?" Cyrus asked confused by his lack of presence.

"Gone. He went back to the estate. Apparently there was someone here and had an unfortunate run in with Eldon." He smirked.

Cyrus swallowed thickly as he called the gun shot and knew what that meant. "The gun shot..."

"Yeah. Like I said. Unfortunate. Though he's not dead. Yet." Roscoe stated noticing how tense his cousin appeared and knew Cyrus wasn't exactly the mid evil type that liked to do the things they do. "Anyway." He started to take out the contents from the box. He held up what looked like records. "He has crappy taste in music. I mean Motorhead? Seriously?"

Cyrus remained silent.

Roscoe rolled his eyes at his cousin's apparent disinterest before holding up a picture of a women and little boy and whistling. "He's got a hot mom." He then took out a bunch of shirts. "Also loves flannel." He dropped the box to the floor along with the other items to be burned.

He looked down at the pile. "Alright. Let's light it up." He grinned widely as he picked up a gas container and twister the lid off.

Cyrus's breath caught in his throat. He felt very uneasy and even more unsure than before. He couldn't believe what his cousin's were doing. Sure, part of him could believe that, his family was a bunch of sick, twisted people but the other part? He just couldn't come to terms with how easily it was for them to do such things without so much as the slightest remorse or regret. He found himself reaching out to grip Roscoe's arm, stopping him from spilling the gasoline on the pile.

"Wait." He said shakily, his gaze traveling from his cousin to the books and other objects before going back to his cousin. "We don't have to do this. Please. Enough enough. Can't we just go?" He pleased desperately.

Roscoe shook his head in disappointment. He tore out of Cyrus's hold and glared at him. "Yes we do. Man up Cyrus. You're a part of this family whether you want to be or not."

Cyrus flinched at Roscoe's harsh voice.

Roscoe glared at him for a few more seconds, glad that the kid reeled back in fear of him, before resuming to douse the junk on the floor with flammable gasoline. Just when he was about to pour it he was stopped again only it wasn't Cyrus who caught his attention, but instead a cold, low voice was what had him freeze in place.

"You really don't want to do that and you better pray that Sam's still in one piece because if he isn't?" The voice paused obviously waiting for the man to turn his way.

Roscoe set the can down and slowly turned on his heels towards the direction of the voice. Cyrus had backed up as soon as someone else was in the room but what had him shaking in his skin was the look in the eyes of the the man standing in the door way. It was a look of a man without any feeling, all except the kind of wrath that made demons screech in fear.

"You'll know the pain you inflicted on all your so called patients and pal? You're gonna feel alot of pain." Dean Winchester stood, his shirt covered in specs of dried blood making him look even more feral than a wild animal. "You people, the Stynes, will pay for what you did to Charlie, don't worry about that but Sam? There will be hell to pay." His threat was that of a promise and he felt satisfaction at the horror stricken look on their faces. "Oh, and don't worry about the rest of the family. Their long dead."


	5. Please Read Important!

Hey guys! I was gonna post the next chapter soon but now I don't know when it'll be! My confidence, my motivation just got demolished. Literally. I can deal with people who correct my grammar but when they are mean bout it saying I don't know the difference an if I did I need to use grammar like its suppose to be used then saying my story is choppy and and so on an so on. That literally put a dent in my confidence. I usually don't let that bother me but, it did. I will try to update when I can but I don't know when that'll be.

When I do I will delete this an post it! Thanks guys. I hope you understand...


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Okay so it'll be this chapter plus two more. The last chapter will be short cuz its gonna be a fix. Sam and Dean talk about Charlie and the words Dean said. Cuz I need a fix! Lol Next Chapter starts with Sam and what not. Dean rescues him so on. Haha special thanks, VERY important Authors notes and praises to several of you guys who have been so kind to me on my Chapter 5 update. I decided not to delete it cuz y'all's words really inspired me an whenever I feel down all I gotta do is look at em. Anyway, make sure to read the last Authors note at the bottom!

Official word count- 3,818

Expect mistakes, misspellings, errors, etc. Will fix when I can.

* * *

Cas waited patiently, yet nervously, unseen to the people in the bunker as he listened to Dean's statement and he knew it was going to get ugly real soon.

They arrived not two minutes ago and Cas sensed something was off and knew without a doubt that Sam was in trouble. Both him and Dean spotted the odd tracks leading to and from the bunker, tracks that were not from the Impala's tires. He already knew the Stynes were there since he checked the GPS and found Dean was still moving towards the bunker. Sam was strong but he was also vulnerable and Cas had a sinking feeling that they were to late.

He could hear the deadly promise behind Dean's spoken words. A part of him wanted to recoil back at the void tone, the calm yet low tone that carried a dangerous edge to it. Cas has seen Dean's wrath on a number of occasions, has seen his undying love and devotion when it came to the people he cared about but, the wrath was always something he's noticed about the oldest Winchester.

Dean could be downright scary but now, with the mark, he was more aggressive and surrounded by its never ending cycle of death as it continued to slay and spill blood in its horrible name. The Winchester was a different person, one Cas did not recognize anymore and standing there, hidden by the shadows, he could see that Dean's hours of pint up emotions was about to spill over again and this time it was because Sam was involved. Charlie was the oil to Dean's anger, Sam was the fire to the active bomb that was about to go off.

When it came to Sam, Dean would fight against a hundred demons and Lucifer himself to keep him safe. He easily saw the protective brother in Dean, a brother that would go beyond his capable limits to save his little brother and has on many levels. It always amazed him how both brothers could sacrifice themselves for the other no matter the situation.

No matter how mad the other was, or how badly they messed up, forgiveness was always there. Maybe not for days or even weeks but it found it's way back to them as they learned to depend on one another again. The bond that was never truly broken always found a way to resurface because it was stronger than steel, more capable than glue and certainly more visible than the eye could see. Sometimes you have to lose your way to find yourself again, only better than you were before.

No matter what they may say to one another, it couldn't destroy their brotherly bond.

"You should be dead."

Cas's thought process was interrupted by a voice laced with fear and disbelief and he listened on. He would step in if things escalated quickly as he believed they would. Hearing it in Dean's voice, he noted just how quick the situation could turn brutal.

•••Supernatural•••

Dean stared at the man with eyes unmoving and cold. "Apparently not. Good job there. You thought you could kill me? Just like you killed Charlie?" Dean's eyes narrowed and his voice took on a dangerously low key.

His body was tense and rigid as the urge to fight itched it's way up his spine. Dean fought the temptation to just end their lives right then and there. He needed to know where Sam was because by the looks of it his little brother wasn't there. In the back of his mind the voice tickled his sub-conscious trying to convince him that Sam was alright, that he wasn't in any danger. Only he knew better. Even if Cas hadn't told him he left Sam there he would still feel that concern and panic bubbling to the surface. No matter how he felt at the moment, that was one thing that could surpass anything else and that was the worry for Sam.

Roscoe held Dean's stare but he couldn't deny the sudden fear creeping through his mind at the look he was receiving. Something about staring into the mans eyes was like pray staring down its predator. It was a terrifying feeling and one he was getting in that instant. "Listen, I didn't kill her." He said in a none threatening manner.

Cyrus's eyes were like a pin ball machine, moving from one man to the other.

Dean stepped forward. He held his hands at his side. Veins were visible reaching up the length of his arms from the sheer effort he was giving to keep his composure in check. "I don't care dirt bag. Charlie was an innocent girl who shouldn't have even been anywhere near this crap and what? All for a book? You kill an innocent girl for a book?!" Dean's arm shot out making contact with a stack of books on the table, knocking them to the floor and making the Stynes flinch.

Cas closed his eyes as he felt a dangerous aura surround the bunker. The mark was growing hotter with each outburst Dean made. He could also feel the fear that radiated from the two other men in the room. Dean was losing himself in the marks thirst for blood, for death.

"Where's my brother?!" He yelled, teeth clenched tightly together as the familiar burn crawled up the length of his arm and Dean knew that he couldn't control his rage for long.

Roscoe looked at Cyrus, who was still shaking in fear and took another step back, then back at Dean. "He's not here..." He answered slowly.

He wasn't completely shaken up by Dean's threatening demeanor but he could see that the man was unstable and would kill them without so much as a thought.

Dean, unsatisfied by the answer given, took another step forward. He was losing patients and he needed to know where his brother was and now. He knew first hand how quick the Styne's experimented on their subjects. _Sammy could already be..._

The thought died off, the thought Sam might already be dead angering him farther and he lunged forward catching the taller man off guard. Dean used his moment of surprise and knocked his feet out from under him and he fell to the floor with a head-cracking thud. Dean was on him in an instant throwing punch after punch on the guy. He could feel it, the power flowing through his body as he honed in on the marks instinct to kill. It was a white hot fury he couldn't control and it took a hold of him.

Cas could no longer listen as Dean did the marks bidding and he emerged from the shadows and appeared beside an unaware Dean and the battered broken man that was now unconscious, or dead. Cas didn't know but he looked like death itself. Blood covered the mans face and formed a small puddle underneath his head from when he hit the floor, cracking his head open.

Dean brought his arm back again but Cas grabbed a hold of his wrist before he could bring it back down. Cas expected Dean to react harshly but he wasn't prepared for the snarl that was sent at him nor was he ready for the sudden pain that stabbed him in the face at Dean's punch. The attack sent Cas stumbling back only barely catching his balance so that he didn't hit the floor. "Dean?" He rubbed his now throbbing cheek as he looked at his friend.

Dean was glaring at him but it was is if his eyes weren't seeing. Almost like they were dead and no light was seen in those emerald eyes that usually vibrated warmth, that now was the perfect image of a man who feels nothing.

"Dean?" He questioned again when Dean's gaze broke contact to peer down at the body under him.

Cas kept his distance. He wasn't sure what he could do but he did know that getting too close to Dean when he wasn't himself could be to a bad reaction. So he waited patiently. He watched as Dean's hand went to the back of his jeans only to pull out his favorite gun from its safe confinement before he clicked the safety off and placed it against the mans head.

Cyrus's breathing turned ragged and his eyes watered. Closing his lids, he willed his mind to go to a different place, one filled with as many books as he could read, a freshmen in collage and none of his family in sight to ruin it, anywhere but where he was at that moment.

"Dean. I don't think-" Cas was cut off by the loud gun shot that filled the large building.

The tip of Dean's gun smoked as the bullet left its chamber in speeds far from the eye could see. The bullet pierced skin and bone and formed a perfect round circle in the guys forehead.

Cyrus was shaking and a sob followed the echo of the shot averting Dean's attention straight to him. Cyrus reeled back in fear and began to push himself backwards trying to put as much distance he could between him and the man with the gun.

Dean stood up. His expression blank as if he didn't just murder a person in cold blood.

"Please."Cyrus whimpered as Dean got closer.

Cas moved forward and placed himself in front of Cyrus and directly between him and Dean. "Dean. Stop! This isn't you. You're not a killer. Remember that. You save lives not take them away." Cas wanted him to remember what it was like to save people not be the cause of their demise.

"Move Cas." Dean demanded calmly.

Cas held his ground. He wouldn't allow his friend to murder a kid. That was exactly what the cowering boy behind him was. He was a kid who didn't approve of his parents methods of activities, didn't agree with their twisted ways of entertainment. He could see it in the boys eyes, he wasn't a killer and he didn't enjoy it either. "No Dean. He's only a kid."

Dean growled in frustration. He wasn't thinking rationally. All he saw was another life he needed to take. "Have it your way." Dean smirked but it was so unlike the old Dean and Cas had to wonder if their was even still some of his friend left in there.

"Me and Sam, we are trying to help you." Cas moved back towards the kid.

If he could touch Cyrus he would be able to send him somewhere safe and far away from Dean's murder spree.

Unfortunately Dean wasn't stupid and knew exactly what Cas was trying to do. He threw a punch at the angel, who, also dodged it but Dean was fast and skilled. When Cas ducked Dean placed a well aimed uppercut to Cas's chin knocking the angel off balance. The floor came up to greet him unwelcomingly. It left him slightly dazed as he had to try and blink away the black dots dancing around his vision.

"I don't need help! It's the whole reason why we are here now. The whole reason Charlie is dead and who knows if Sam's even..." Dean's sentence dropped off, the calm and collected voice dropped a line of concern but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

Cas spit out blood and attempted to rise to his feet. He grunted when Dean's foot made contact with his stomach.

"Stay down Cas." Dean said breathing hard and he turned his attention to the small form on the floor.

Cyrus held out his hands. "Please. I'm not like them! I swear!" He pleaded.

Dean aimed the gun at his head. "Where's Sam. I won't ask again."

Cyrus shut his eyes. "Please. My cousin took him. He went back to the estate. If you don't hurry, he'll...he'll kill him." He answered frantically.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Who?"

"Eldon."

Cas coughed. Dean's strength was beyond normal. He was pretty sure he had a cracked rib. He could feel is scraping against his insides. "Dean. Listen to me. Don't. The Dean I know would not murder a kid. He would give him a chance just like he has others. Don't let the Mark Of Cain control that part of you," He coughed again as he struggled to stand up, "that part of you that is human." Cas stood, his arm wrapping around his middle when pain from his broken ribs vibrated through his entire body.

Dean's gun hand started to shake. He looked at the kid, who's eyes were shut tight in an attempt to block out what might happen next and shaking like a leaf, and he felt his own body start to tremble at Cas's words.

It's true that the old him as been covered up by the symbol on his arm. It changed him in ways that were unexplainable and made him into something he never wanted to be. He forgot who he was as the marks effects slowly started to take over his body and mind. Half of the time he wasn't even aware of what he was doing. Only when everything was done, after blood was spilled and souls were ripped apart from the seams, was Dean able to fully come back to the present with the realization he had just murdered without so much as a moments hesitation.

He could remember one time in particular. When he had lost sight of everything around him, fueled by the need to kill, and several bodies lay cold and bloody all around him, when for the first time Sam had seen what kind of monster Dean was. It was the moment Dean also realized that he had allowed the mark too consume him to the point that he killed without mercy, without remorse.

Tell me. Tell me it was them or you. Dean, tell me you had to do this!

Sam's words were so grief stricken and laced with disbelief at what Dean had done.

He was far worse than any monster they faced and deep down Sam must have thought the same as he recalled those words.

At least that's what he thought but somehow his brother still believed he could be saved, that Dean wasn't a bad person. The things he done was the mark and not Dean.

Sam still had faith in him.

He still believed in him.

 _You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change._

Dean grunted. Sam's voice rung out in the deepest part of his mind. Images of before were running along his mind like a television displaying scenes from a movie. Their whole life seemed to flash before his eyes. The good times and the bad but the only voice he heard was Sam's. His brothers soft words violated every corner of his thoughts and his hold on the weapon wavered.

 _I've been following you around my entire life. I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big , yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified._

 _I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. Just...cause._

Dean gripped his head. He fought the marks control as he listened to Sam's heartfelt words. The light shinned brightly from his arm and he felt hot. His skin was on fire and the gun dropped from his grasp and hit the floor with a clatter.

Cas moved forward concerned by Dean's behavior turn. "Dean?"

Dean felt his eyes sting. Even clenches shut he could feel water forming in his eyes and the next voice he heard was not Sam's but his own.

 _Listen, man, I know we've had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I've said some junk that set you back on your heels. But, Sammy...come on. I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that._

"Sammy?" Dean's broken voice filled the silence and Cas, ignoring the pain in his chest, shot forward when Dean's knees buckled and he started to fall.

Cas caught him before he made contact with the ground. "Dean what's wrong?" He asked worriedly.

Dean clenched the material of Cas's trench coat as his own words once again played out behind closed lids.

 _Hey, look at me. It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam! Hey, listen to me. We're gonna patch you up, okay? You'll be good as new. Huh? I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take you care of you. I've got you. That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother? Sam? Sam! Sam! Sammy!_

Their deaths, both Sam's and his own, seemed to play out in his mind.

 _Just save your energy, all right? We'll stop the bleeding. We'll - we'll get you a doctor or - or I'll find a spell. You're gonna be okay._

Dean wasn't sure which of them was more broken in those moments and he wasn't sure why he was remembering. A part of him felt the same sadness that overcame him when he held Sam's limp body in his arms, the same misery that stayed with him for months on end afterwards. Even when their father died, Dean was torn up about it, but never had he felt such a sorrow until losing Sam. The moment he watched Sam fall to the ground on his knees, his head thrown back as the pain took his breath away, the moment Sam's eyes rolled up into his head and he slumped forward into Deans chest, was the moment Dean was pretty sure his heart stopped. The whole world stopped. The noises around him died and his breath froze in his lungs because as he held Sam's rolling head in his hands he realized Sam was no longer breathing. His chest was no longer rising to fall but was completely still.

Sam was dead.

The world around him came into focus. The fog in his mind lifted and so did the images. The burning that had been hugging his skin was back to normal and he opened his eyes to find someone, Cas, holding him and keeping him from hitting the floor.

"Cas?"

Cas sighed in relief. "It's okay Dean. You're okay."

Dean looked at Cas in confusion until he remembered what he had just done and what he was about to do. He looked at the boy who was eyeing him wearily then his gaze found the bloody mess of the guy he just shot. "Dammit."

Cas unwrapped his arms from around Dean once he knew he could sit without falling over. "It's okay. It wasn't exactly you."

Dean rubbed a hand down his face. "Yeah. Well maybe not completely but it was me Cas. Right now we need to worry about Sam." Dean stood up but had to blink back the dizziness that came over him in doing so before walking over to Cyrus.

Cyrus eyes were wide and fearful. He scooted back out of panic.

Dean held out his hands in a way of surrender. "Woah. I'm not going to hurt you."

Cyrus looked at Cas.

Cas nodded. "He won't hurt you. He wasn't exactly himself." He explained simply.

Cyrus looked skeptical. He swallowed thickly. "Okay."

Dean held a hand out and Cyrus allowed him to pull him to his feet. "You're coming with us in case we need you. You mentioned someone. Eldon?" He asked.

Cyrus shook his head. "He...he was here earlier. I heard a gun shot and..." His gaze locked onto the corpse of his cousin, "He said that Eldon left because he wanted to have fun with the guy."

Dean's hands clenched. The bastard shot Sam. "You said the estate. Right?" He bent down and grabbed his gun.

Cyrus flinched slightly but sighed when Dean clicked the safety on and placed it back into the waist of his jeans. "Yeah."

Dean locked eyes with Cas and he saw something different in those green orbs. The rage was gone, replaced by concern and Cas could tell the mark no longer had control over Dean. Or at least, not completely. All that he saw when Dean's eyes met his was the worry for Sam shinning through them.

"Let's go."

Dean wasn't going to let Sam down. His brother meant more to him then any other person he knew. He cared about Cas, he loved Charlie like a sister but Sam was irreplaceable in the full term. He was blinded by a difference influence, the one residing on his arm, he allowed that part of him to be overshadowed by the evil that threatened to drown him in darkness. He forgot what being a brother meant. Well not anymore. He will save Sam. He would apologize for not being there, for the words he spoke to Sam out of anger and bitterness.

 _You sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you?_

Dean forgot that, like Sam, he would go to the end of the earth, burn in hells fire, or drown in high waters if it meant saving Sam.

Dean smiled fondly. "Yeah, Sammy. I know you would." He said out loud gaining a head tilt from Cas. "Nevermind. Lets go save Sam from that lunatic."

* * *

Special Note for the following users, supporters of the story-

•ncsupnatfan

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Private PMs I received. I wanted to thank you all for inspiring me when I felt completely torn. I wasn't expecting anyone to say anything bout the it and I certainly didn't expect the amount of support I got from so many of you guys. Lets just say it was something that really brought me up and put a smile on my face. All of you guys are amazing and simply admirable. There's not enough words to speak how much I appreciate your kind words but I hope you know it means alot to me. Thank you so very much.


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: I just watched when Metatron kills Dean and I cried! I hate that sudden and quick ache I get in my chest when I see scenes like that. I hate being an emotional sap T.T haha anyway. I've been hurting so I don't know how good this chapter is. Forgive me if it sucks XD One more chapter to go guys!

P.S. Sam doesn't get alot of torture cuz I don't like writing such scenes so. He wasn't badly tortured just enough to hurt a little because lets face it. Dean's words hurt ALOT worse. Right? Anyway ENJOY!

Expect mistakes, misspellings, errors etc. Will fix when I can!

* * *

Sam awoke to reality in a painful and unwelcome way. His consciousness slowly returned to him and the first thing he felt was the unmistakable stab of pain that prickled his shoulder and somehow pulsated throughout his entire arm downwards. The second, was that something of a noise entered his subconscious and pulled him from the darkness of an abyss he had fallen into. He wasn't sure what it was that drawn his unconscious mind back to the surface because it was like being under water and the sound was drowned out by the deep depth he had sunk so far down into.

Shaking his head, he willed away the thick fog that clouded the deepest part of his mind. It was all fuzzy and he couldn't remember where he was or why he felt so drained. His body felt as if it weighed a ton and was being pulled down by an invincible force that threatened to drag him to the very corners of hell. At least that's how Sam would describe it.

He tried to move and regretted the action instantly.

White hot pain irrupted inside him and he gasped as it travelled from his arms down to his sides. Taking a deep breath, Sam allowed his body to slightly relax enough to where the pain was a dull throb but his worry's were only beginning because he realized that he was in a very sticky situation. One he wasn't sure he could get out of since he found that his arms were suspended over his head. He felt the familiar tug of restraints biting into the soft flesh of his wrists. It added extra weight and strain to his wound.

Sam's eyes flew open but due to the harsh lighting that greeted his vision they slammed shut at the disliked penetration. He blinked several times trying to clear the dots dancing around in a frenzy of rainbow colors.

When he was able to see, he took in his surroundings. He looked up. His hands were tied tightly together and was being held in place by a sharp hook. He then looked down to see that his feet were also bound by cloth. He gazed from side to side noticing all the things around him and it made him want to cringe. There were at least two operating tables in the room with various objects laid out on small tables beside them. He recognized some of the tools to be that of what regular hospitals used when doing surgeries or difficult procedures but it was the other strange tools that he knew for a fact wasn't apart of a hospitals regularities. Sam spotted one specific tool being a big pair of pliers with a red handle. The ends of them were painted in a dark substance. Blood.

Sam bit his lip nervously. He knew what it meant and all he could think was that he wasn't a stranger to torture. He has been cut just to bleed out when two ghouls decided he made for a delicious snack. He remembers the girl one, Adams supposed mother, sticking her finger in the small injury in his side where she twisted and pulled. He had burned in hells raging fire just to feel every part of his tainted flesh bubble and burn, peel away till nothing was left but charred black and shattered bones. He was Lucifer's playmate, his bunk buddy, as he relentlessly tortured Sam in both body and mind to the point his soul was nothing more but a dim light. A fragile, broken thing that an angel suggested was 'skinned alive' and would destroy him with memories of something far worse than the mind could ponder. It was better he didn't remember because Sam wouldn't like what's at end of the tunnel. True to the word, remembering was almost Sam's downfall because he found out through seizures and headaches that he had done beyond horrible things.

Sam was no stranger to torture indeed.

Pain wasn't kind, but, Sam has been through enough suffering to know that it wasn't something he should fear. That and there was never a true end when someone dies. You just supposedly go to a better or worse place. You'll live eternally in either gates of gold or forever fire. Either way, its never truly the end.

 _You see a light at the end of this ugly ass tunnel Sam. I don't..._

Sam used to see light at the end but now he wasn't so sure. Dean, somehow, had got it into his head that he would die fighting the good battle, that there was no chance he could ever be normal. He was going to go out doing what he did best. By hunting. Dean believed the one to get that apple pie life, the one who deserved it, was Sam so he took it upon himself, ignoring Sam's protests, to take on the trials. To be the one to close hell for good even if it meant he die in the process. Well Sam wasn't okay with that. He was never okay with Dean being in danger or dying. He remembers Dean's tired voice, his hard features.

Sam begged Dean to let him back him up yet his brother was as stubborn as a mule.

 _You're not going alone, Dean. I'm gonna come with you._

 _I need you to be safe, Sam, okay? That's what I need, was Dean's answer. No arguments, no change of mind because Dean's was set in hard stone._

That didn't stop Sam from going out to the shed to save his brother and kill the hellhound.

He recalled what else Dean had said in the house.

 _We've been down roads like this before, man, with Yellow-Eyes, Lucifer, Dick friggin' Roman. We both know where this ends. One of us dies... Or worse._

Sam did know how it always ended. One of them always drew the short straw. They both have died to many times to count but it didn't make it easier to watch as one of them died while the other watched unable to do anything about it. Sam knows all to well but just because his brother felt like he should be the one to die doesn't mean Sam saw it the same way. For some reason, Dean didn't value himself like he should and since returning from hell his brother hasn't been the same. There was something clawing inside Dean that made him believe that he didn't deserve a happy ending. He didn't deserve to be saved. That the light wouldn't be what greeted him in death, instead it would be darkness, or so Dean would go on believing.

 _But I tell you what I do know. It's that I'm gonna die with a gun in my hand. 'Cause that's what I have waiting for me. That's all I have waiting for me. I want you to get out. I want you to have a life, become a man of Letters, whatever. You, with a wife, kids and grandkids, living till you're fat and bald and chugging Viagra. That is my perfect ending, and it's the only one that I'm gonna get. So I'm gonna do these trials. I'm gonna do them alone, end of story. You're staying here. I'm going out there. If landshark comes knocking, you call me. If you try to follow me, I'm gonna put a bullet in your damn leg._

Dean was always the hand that kept Sam from falling and pummeling down into a place so dark and cold, the smile that formed in an attempt to cheer Sam up when he was upset. Dean was the light when Sam couldn't see and he was the way back home when he was lost and at that moment, when Dean threatened to break his legs if he followed him and decided to take on the trials alone, Sam realized that without Dean there was no light at the end of the tunnel for him either. Nothing but pitch black.

Sam was so sick of the darkness.

Try as he might he just kept falling faster and faster into that cold, lonely pit.

Yet, all he managed to do was push Dean farther and farther away. His brothers harsh and cold statement still haunted Sam as they stuck to his heart like glue.

 _You know what I do think? That it should have been you instead of her._

 _Should have been you instead of her._

 _Should have been you._

Dean's once love and worry filled voice was now cold and so unlike it's usual caring tone and he wasn't sure Dean still cared.

Sam let his eyes droop closed. He was starting to believe that maybe it would have been better if he was the one that had died instead.

"Finally awake huh?"

Sam flinched and opened his eyes, to lost in his own thoughts to realize someone had walked into the room and was standing by one of the operating tables. The same man that had put a bullet through his arm and was now eyeing him curiously.

"Where am I?" Sam demanded ignoring how the man's twisted smile made his skin involuntarily shiver.

"I don't think we were formerly introduced. I'm Eldon and you are at the Estate." Eldon picked up a sharp scalpel off the table and held it up to examine it. "Have you ever really tortured someone?" His gaze went back to Sam as he twirled the tool in his hand making sure that Sam could see it.

Sam kept his face neutral. "I'm not a deranged psycho path. I don't hurt people for enjoyment." He answered bluntly.

Eldon laughed, amused at the Sam's facial expression. It was as if he was trying to send daggers into him by sheer look alone. "You don't know what you're missing. It can be quite entertaining." He walked slowly over to Sam, who, for all his credit at keeping a calm face, was feeling unsettled by the man's murderous glint.

"You don't want to do this." Sam said lowly.

Eldon stopped right in front of him. His eyes were baring into his with an intensity that clearly stated:

 _I definitely want to._

Eldon grinned. He played with the sharp scalpel, taking the tip of his finger, he pressed down on the end of the tool, applying enough pressure to draw blood. "See this arm? It's not exactly mine. Thanks to you and that woman I had an unfortunate accident and my arm was cut off. Now that? That's painful."

Sam leaned his head back when the tip of the scalpel touched his throat, trying to get away from its threatening appearance, it's cool touch was anything but gentle as it begged for blood. It dug into his skin, breaking the first layer and a moment later he felt something warm roll down his neck but he didn't make a sound. Sam clenched his teeth when the blade was moved to the side and cutting a fine straight line under across his flesh.

"looks like you can hold your tongue. That won't do. It's no fun if you don't scream." Something mischievous passed through Eldon's harsh gaze, a wicked grin plastered across his face as he pictured Sam's loud screams and moans. "You'll scream."

Sam let out a relieved sigh when the coolness of the object left his skin but it was short lived because he wasn't prepared for what happened next. He wasn't expecting the sudden hot burn that lit a fire inside his shoulder and he could stop the scream that tore itself freely from his throat.

Eldon dug the scalpel into the torn and bloody skin of the gun shot wound in Sam's arm. He pressed it half way in, turning and wiggling it to cut and scrape everything in its path. Sam's scream's filled the room in agony and Eldon smiled as worked it in different directions. "That's it. Scream."

Sam did because it was like someone was sticking a hot iron poker into his arm and the pain was pure agony. He gritted his teeth and tried to shelter his cries but Eldon moved the scalpel all around causing the wound to leak fresh scarlet, mixing with the already dried and caked blood.

Sam tried to get away from the thing causing him to suffer but his suspended arms kept him in place.

"Sam. You know its all your fault don't you?" Eldon asked calmly as he released Sam from the blades torture.

Sam grunted when the scalpel was removed. He panted. "What are you..?" Sam started to ask confused by Eldon's statement.

Eldon looked at Sam. He rose a brow before rolling his eyes and walking back to the table. "She wouldn't have died if you hadn't pulled her into this. It's your fault she's dead." He answered simply with fake sympathy.

Sam clenched his eyes shut as Dean's similar words once again penetrated his mind.

 _You got her killed. You don't get to feel sorry._

Sam felt a tug in his chest, like his heart was trying to beat out of his chest as it beat furiously with regret and guilt. Ever since Charlie died he had known it was because of him that she was dead. It wasn't hard to figure out. Charlie was far away, safe, until he called and asked for her help in helping Dean and she came without hesitation because she wanted to save Dean just like Sam did. So she didn't say no. Even knowing what she was getting into, what risks were involved, she still came because they were family. Whether they were blood or not. She loved Sam and Dean like they were her own brothers.

How does Sam repay her? By getting her killed.

"You're right. It was my fault. Everything is my fault." Sam admitted, the defeat in his tone about as defining as the silence that surrounded the room.

Eldon smiled but it was anything but reassuring or kind. "You're also right. I'll let you join her then maybe you can tell her how sorry you are that you let her down. That you let her die." He picked up regular knife and pair of scissors and walked back over to Sam.

Instinctively, Sam tried pulling away from the threat in front of him which was still futile as the ropes refused to let him go.

Eldon started to cut up the length of Sam's shirt which he quickly disposed of by throwing it to the floor leaving Sam's chest bare.

"Stop." Sam's voice wasn't frantic but it held a shake as he started to panic.

Eldon placed his cold hand to Sam's chest making the hunter shiver at the cold contact. He leaned forward and Sam felt his hot breath pressing against his ear. "You got amazing skin. To bad it'll be stained with your blood."

Sam's breathing picked up. It wasn't because he was going to die but because if he died there was no way of saving Dean. His brother would forever be branded with the mark as it continued to change him and it killed Sam knowing that he let Dean down, again, but there was also that little unwanted voice in the back of his mind telling him that Dean would no longer have to be burdened by Sam, either.

Just like that, Sam's mind shut down.

Eldon smirked as he stared into the eyes of Sam Winchester, the lifeless, dull eyes of the man strung up in front of him. He took the knife and placed it in the middle of Sam's exposed stomach. He placed pressure and dragged the blade downwards. The knife sunk down into the skin and brought blood that quickly started to pour out as the skin split in half.

Sam grunted but didn't move.

 _This is it. Dean, i'm sorry. Maybe this way you'll get what you want. No more pain in ass little brother. Should have been me anyway._

Eldon placed multiple incisions all over Sam's chest, decorating him in ugly cuts that were covered with his blood. Sam ignored the pain, only wincing when Eldon cut precise and deep.

"What happened Sam? Where's those scream?" Eldon asked annoyed and plunged the knife into Sam's side, forcing a yell from him. "Does it hurt?" He asked loudly over Sam's cry of pain.

Sam felt tears welling up into his eyes as the knife entered his flesh without mercy. He could feel it tare as it tore into him in one hard push where it rested inside of him to the hilt. He saw stars and his vision became blurred with water. He could feel the knife scraping against his inners.

"S-screw you." Sam mouthed which earned him that much more suffering as Eldon twisted the knife.

Sam screamed until his voice was raw.

"I wanted to take my time with you but you're pissing me off. I'll just put you out of your misery." Eldon angrily pulled the knife out with a sickening pop and Sam's whole body jerked with it.

Sam's head was held down, sweat glistening on his forehead. He kept his eyes closed. He was weak from blood loss and he hadn't the strength to even scream again if he tried. His breathing was harsh and strained. His body shook, whether it was from the wounds or the emotional ache, he wasn't sure and in that moment he longed for death. For so many reasons he didn't care if he took his last breath but there was one that was more stronger than anything else.

 _Should have been you._

 _Not her._

 _You._

Dean would get his wish and maybe his brother would be happier with him gone. Sam wouldn't be around to mess things up anymore. That wouldn't be a bad thing. With that thought he welcomed death and what awaited him on the other side. He just hoped Cas could find a cure for Dean. Dean deserved to be saved. He always did and it didn't matter how little Dean thought of himself because to Sam, Dean was a hero. He was a protector. He was a fighter and he knew Dean will fight to his last breath. What Dean didn't deserve was living with mark and becoming a monster. His brother may act cool and collected but Dean was like any other human. He was breakable, he was fragile and the weight of knowing what he did after the mark is lifted would destroy him.

That's what Sam feared the most.

 _Cas. Please save my brother. I'm sorry I can't help. Just make sure you get that damned mark off him...for his own sake,_ Sam thought sadly.

Eldon pulled out a gun from one of the cabinets before aiming it right at Sam's head. "Tell the girl I said hi." He said mockingly.

Sam closed his eyes, his body relaxed through the pain and he welcomed his pending death

A gun shot, as loud as thunder, vibrated through the air. Only Sam was lost to the world as unconsciousness took him first and he didn't feel the piercing bullet that left the gun, all he felt was the darkness pulling into the black awaiting abyss.

Nor did he hear the familiar flutter of wings.

•••Supernatural•••

A bullet did leave a guns chamber. The end smoked from the released shell.

Eldon looked down at his chest to see a quickly growing stain filling his shirt. He touched it in confusion and shock, the pain not even registering at first as the gun fell from his limp hand and clattered on the floor below. He swayed on his feet and turned around to face the direction of the bullet that was not his own.

"I...I thought-thought you were dead..."

"No but you are."

Dean kept the gun at level point. His eyes raged with anger as he took in the sight of his bloodied brother, worriedly noting that his brothers eyes were closed and he couldn't tell if Sam's chest was moving from where he stood and that added a whole new level of panic to his already rising concern. "Sammy." He breathed out.

Cyrus blinked as he took in the scene in front of them.

Cas stood beside his friend frozen in place at the thought of Sam being dead. He could see several cuts framing his chest but there was one in particular that was enough to cause alarm. A straight cut that went down the length of Sam's stomach was deep and was seeping blood in a steady stream. "Dean. Cut him down." Cas demanded in concern before realizing Dean was already moved into action.

Cyrus walked up to Eldon who had fallen to the floor dying. "I'm sorry...but im not like you. This? What all of you did was wrong and ill never be like any of you..." He stated with determination, a promise that he intended to keep.

Eldon coughed. Blood splattered on his lips and even in death his eyes remained cold. "I never considered you family. To...to weak. That's what-what you were." He laughed at Cyrus.

Cyrus shook his head sadly. "No. You were for not taking in account just how precious life is."

Eldon's face went blank as the last of his life vanished and his eyes remained open but not seeing. His mouth was slightly ajar, hanging open. His chest came to a dead stop and he was dead.

Cyrus sighed. He was finally free of his deranged family and even though he should feel upset about losing all his family in one day he couldn't help but feel happy. He was free.

Dean ran up to Sam and wasted no time cutting the ropes that held Sam in place, who, once was free of them started to fall forward but Dean was already catching him. Sam was dead weight in Deans arms, arms that were already wrapping themselves around Sam. "I'm here. It's okay, i'm here." He soothed Sam even though he knew his brother couldn't hear him. "I got you. I'm here."

Cas placed a hand to Dean's shoulder in silent comfort. "He's alive Dean. I can heal him but I can't erase everything. My powers are limited but he will be okay."

Dean sighed in relief. "Lets get him back." He snaked an arm around Sam's waist, mindful of his brothers injuries, and threw Sam's uninjured arm around his neck.

"Should I-"

"No. No I got him. Cas, I got him."

Cas nodded in understanding. Dean's protectiveness was clearly heard through his actions as he tightened his hold on Sam but he heard something in Dean's voice that he couldn't quite place.

He turned to Cyrus. "I can take two at a time. I'll be right back." He assured placing his hands on both Sam and Dean and before giving Cyrus time to answer.

They vanished in specs of blue.

•••Supernatural•••

Dean had a hard time keeping himself and Sam from face planting on the floor which happened everytime Cas zapped them someplace. "Dammit. Does that ever get better?" He growled in frustration.

They were in Sam's room. Dean walked his brother over to the bed and with care placed Sam's long form on the matris. Sam's head rolled to the side. "Sam?" Dean brushed back the long strands of hair that fell in the kids face.

Cas walked over to stand on the other side of the bed and placed two fingers on Sam's forehead and easily healed the visible cuts. They closed up slowly only leaving the dried blood as proof that they were even there in the first place. Sam's shoulder was different and he couldn't heal it completely. He fixed the torn muscles and managed to heal it half way. "His shoulder will need first aid. I healed the major damage but that's all I can do at the moment."

Dean kept his eyes on Sam but nodded. "Thanks Cas."

Cas disappeared with a flap of wings.

Dean grabbed a chair and pulled it up to Sam's bed. Sam's expression was no longer formed in pain but smoothed out in sleep instead of unconsciousness. Dean's attention was fixated on the dried blood that painted Sam's chest. He had almost lost Sam again. He couldn't go through that again, he wouldn't. He would never let Sam die but even though he would continuously save Sam over and over again, he had told Sam he wished it had died instead of Charlie. He wished death on the one person he care most about and what did that say about him? What kind of heartless asshole would tell their loved one that?

"Dean...i'm sorry..." Sam's soft mumble sounded from the bed.

He never wanted Sam to die. That was certain and when Sam woke up he was going to apologize and, dammit, chick flicks be damned, he needed Sam to know that he didn't mean it.

"I'm right here. When you wake up, I promise im going to fix this." He promised. "First we got to fix that shoulder." Dean got up and grabbed one of the many first aid kits they kept in the bunker, from the bathroom before returning to Sam's side.

He carefully cleaned the wound with disinfectant. Sam's face scrounged up in discomfort but he remained oblivious to the world as Dean continued to address his injury with nothing but care in every action.

"I'll fix this." He repeated quietly.


	8. Chapter 7

A\N: Looks like we are at the end guys. It was fun to write haha hope yall enjoyed it. I didn't know how to end it so the last line might be stupid but meh. It's how it is XD I wanted to thank ALL of you. You've shown support and I appreciate it alot. Stay tuned for a new story.

 _ **Fighting Darkness**_

Expect mistakes, errors, misspellings etc. Will fix when I can!

* * *

Castiel returned to the bunker shortly after and what he he found was a warm image. Sam's skin was cleaned of the dried blood and a clean shirt replaced his bare chest. Dean had fallen asleep in a chair occupying the space beside Sam's bed with his arms crossed and his chin resting comfortably against his chest but even in deep sleep the worry lines stretching along Dean's features could be seen clearly as they stood out more than usual.

Cas wasn't surprised. Between the mark and Sam's eager determination at finding a cure, there were misfortunes and deaths that just kept growing in count as the search continued. One brother determined to save the other, while the other brother accepted his fate, it was meant to have consequences and disagreements but looking at the sight before him he knew their bond was still as it should be.

It was still there.

Dean suddenly stirred. Grunting, his head came up slowly and he blinked open emerald eyes that instantly landed on Cas. He sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Hey." He said with a slight groan.

"Cyrus is gone." Cas admitted. He had gone back to the Estate to find the kid was not there and in all honesty he didn't see the point in chasing after him.

Dean's brows pulled together but Cas wasn't sure it was because he was confused. Something else was on the older Winchesters mind. Dean turned his head slightly into Cas's direction but kept his eyes trained on the floor. "That's good."

Cas tilted his head and blinked. "I don't -"

"It's good. That kid deserves a second chance. He didn't ask for the family he was put with. He deserves to have a life." Dean explained when he noticed Cas's confusion.

There was a moment of silence, a pregnant pause as the gears in Dean's head turned. He almost killed the kid not thinking twice about putting a bullet in his head. He just lost himself in a kind of anger that dimmed the senses and warped ones personality. Wrath clouded his vision and all he could think about was ended Cyrus's life. No hesitation, no second guesses, no remorse and that scared the hell out of him because he could feel the mark growing with impurity, casting its deadly sins upon the beholder. Whoever bared the mark also endured it's fate as they fell into the same path that led down a darkened road. Cain's harsh truth and confession planted itself inside Dean's head, past the protective walls that kept his sanity in check, repeating constantly.

The older brother will kill the younger brother.

The sheer thought at ending Sam's life made stomach twist with disgust. How Cain was able to kill his own flesh and blood was something Dean would never understand. Was it really that easy to end someone's life, foremost someone you cared about? Someone you promised to keep safe no matter what? The person that you spent most of your life protecting from the things that go bump in the night? Was it that simple just to give up on family and turn your back on them with so much as a glance back?

Dean leaned forward and pushed back a lone strand of hair that fell in Sam's face. "Five minutes with some clippers man." Dean smiled at the unruly mop of hair Sam managed to grow out. His brother had turned his head in the other direction and was mumbling something Dean couldn't quite catch but as soon as Dean's fingers brushed up against Sam's warm forehead his brother automatically leaned into the touch.

He looked at him with sad eyes. Sam never could sleep peaceful, not since Jess died. Dean noticed things, the small things at first. Sam thought he was good at hiding his pain and that Dean never noticed when truth was Dean noticed everything. Sam's shakiness that sometimes came out of no where when he was in deep thought, the way his shoulders tensed when those thoughts tormented him for hours on end. Sam always tried to keep up a brave bravado but Dean knew how sensitive Sam really was and he had a better chance hiding an injury than be did at keeping his emotional turmoil a secret. Sam sucked at it and when the nights grew late Dean was always awakened by a shifting in the air, something in the room changed and he woke alert and instantly awake.

The changing in the room was Sam's sleeping pattern as he tossed and turned on the bed with the covers wrapped around his body, hugging him tight, almost like a snake held onto its food which it didn't let go no matter how hard the prey struggled. Sam was caught in a nightmare that threatened to break him and Dean would do what he always did when Sam was distressed.

With gentle hands he would grip Sam's shoulder in a gesture of presence, letting his brother know he was there and he would always say the same thing in a soft voice that matched their fathers whenever he used to comfort them after a bad dream. "I'm right here, Sammy. It's okay."

Sam would always calm down whether it was to the sound of Dean's voice or his feather light touch, Dean wasn't sure and he didn't care because it always knocked his brother out of whatever scene played out deep within Sam's unconscious sleep. He couldn't take away the memories or pain that latched itself around Sam but he would always be there to chase them away even if for a little while.

Castiel watched in awe as Dean's hand brushed up against Sam's forehead and the youngest Winchester seemed to relax at the contact. "He wants to save you." The statement left his mouth before Cas could stop it.

Dean nodded. "I know. I know Cas but man Charlie's dead. Sam could have died and that's not worth it. Losing Charlie was hard but I can't lose Sam. Not again." He let out a deep sigh and stood up from the chair.

Dean walked into the bathroom where he grabbed a clean rag and soaked it in cold water. He folded it long ways in half and placed it over Sam's head. He didn't like the slight warmness of Sam's skin. It wasn't a bad fever but he wasn't taking any chances.

Sam's face scrunched up as the cool rag eased his warm skin.

"Watch him would ya? I need a drink. Actually I need several." Dean walked out of the room leaving Cas to watch over Sam.

Cas stared at the doorway Dean disappeared through before turning his stare on Sam. He smiled fondly down at the unconscious man as he recalled a voice that entered his hearing right before they managed to save Sam, who's sad prayer rushed through Cas's mind in a fleeting moment of warmth and sadness. Sam's words were carried in both desperation and sorrow. Desperate that if he couldn't save Dean then Cas could and Sorrow because Sam thought he was going to die before he saved his brother but there was a warmth as Sam's love for Dean shinned bright and his worry for him was higher than any other feeling.

"We will save him together Sam and that mark will indeed be taken off Dean." He said surely and placed his hand on Sam's shoulder.

He felt Sam tense at the contact. Somehow Cas could tell that Sam knew it wasn't Dean's hand perched on his shoulder even in sleep because Sam's head turned in the opposite direction away from Cas. Almost like he was trying to get away from the sudden touch and Castiel obliged to Sam's discomfort and took his hand away. Which he used to grab the rag that had slipped off onto the pillow and placed back over Sam's head.

He stayed there, watching over Sam until Dean decided to come back to the room which wasn't an hour later and Cas knew Dean hadn't had one drink because that's not what he needed. He went out to think, of what, Cas didn't know.

•••Supernatural•••

Sam felt heavy. His body was led like the gravity itself was pressing down on him with an invisible force unseen.

He vaguely heard the distant sound of a voice calling his name. It was so familiar and it demanded for his attention as it continued to fade in and out of his mind.

"Come on. Wake up. Need to know you're okay, Sam."

The voice was clearer that time and the darkness slowly turned into a small light that got brighter as unconsciousness left him and conscious gripped him instead. Like an extended hand, he took it and allowed it to lift him from the dark.

•••Supernatural•••

"Sam? Come back to the world of the living." Dean coached his brother into opening his eyes when he noticed the signs of waking up clear in Sam's features.

Sam's nose twitched and his eyes came together as he began to wake up. It took a moment for Sam's hazel orbs to flutter before they finally opened. Sam blinked a few times as the light greeted his vision first thing. He was on something soft and comfortable. It was then the memories came rushing back and he darted forward but had to bite his lip when his shoulder protested violently at the ungrateful action. He clenched his eyes shut when nausea hit him full force.

"Woah! Hey, easy." Something gripped his shoulders and pushed him back down gently.

Sam looked to see Dean standing over him. Emerald eyes were peering at him worriedly but with relief in them as they studied Sam, searching, for any signs of pain. "Dean? What?" Sam blinked and gazed around the room. His room, he realized.

Dean grabbed a glass of water that he had placed on the table for when Sam woke up and handed it to him. He was satisfied to find Sam had his strength back and was able to take the offered glass without so much as the shake of hands. "Good. Drink that."

Sam took a big gulp of water. It's cool contents flowed down his throat soothingly, relinquishing his thirst. He guzzled it greedily but the glass was took from his hands by Dean when he drunk a little to fast. "Easy. Not to fast. How's your shoulder?" He asked seriously, placing the glass back on the table.

Sam stared at the ceiling. "Been better." He answered taking a deep breathe.

The side of the bed dipped with Dean's weight. "It was pretty bad. Cas managed to heal the cuts and some of the damage in your shoulder but he couldn't fix everything." Dean looked down to the floor, not meeting Sam's questioning stare.

"It thought it was over ya know?" Sam's voice was soft and low, making Dean look up at him in confusion.

"Not while im around." Dean stated firmly, his jaw set in the way Dean always did when he refused to believe something or his determination was tested.

Sam smiled but it didn't reach Sams ears. "I remembered when we took on the trials, what you said."

Dean stayed silent, clearly wanted Sam to continue.

"You told me you didn't see a light, man. I guess I can understand why you said it, I just, I don't want you to die. You were so ready to die. You honestly believed that your only end was with a gun in your hand doing what we do. Hunting." Sam felt the same pain hit his chest that he felt then as he heard the defeat in Dean's statement.

Dean's eyes were steady and unmoving but Sam could see the gears grinding as he made sense of what Sam was saying.

"Dean. You're worth saving and if its the last thing im gonna do, im gonna save you." Sam said strongly with confidence.

He didn't notice the way Dean tensed at the choice of words he just used or the way his eyes suddenly became red. He was suddenly remembered the first time those words came into play and instead of Dean quoting them, it was Sam.

 _If it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna save you._

"I'm sorry about Charlie. I can't say how sorry I am, but, she loved you, too. She just wanted to save you, Dean. Dean?" Sam pushed himself up into a sitting position when he noticed Dean wasn't looking at him but started intently at the floor again. "Dean? You alright?"

Dean laughed softly. "Were a mess, Sam. You know that right?" He asked looked to see Sam staring at him puzzlingly.

Dean stood up and walked over to the table that held a small picture frame. A picture of Sam and him and he smiled in fondness. He had a certain need to clear the tension that took over his body. He still felt angry over the loss of Charlie but he couldn't get mad at Sam for doing something that Dean himself would do if the roles were reversed. In a heartbeat, Dean would have done exactly the same thing. It was a given. Dean would do anything in his power to save Sam if it had been him who obtained the cursed mark. So how could he be mad when they situation would be the same if Sam had been the one to bare the mark?

"I get it."

Sam was starting to stand when Dean finally spoke. "Get what?" He asked.

"I can't not be mad at you for Charlie, because I am. A little but I can't be mad at you for trying to find a cure. I'd do the same." Dean turned to face him and was at Sam's side instantly when he saw his brother attempting to stand.

Sam expected Dean to help him to sit back on the bed but he found himself being tugged forward into Dean's strong embrace instead. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and held him tight, keeping in mind not to hug to tightly as to cause Sam anymore pain. Sam didn't respond at first, shocked that Dean suddenly hugged him but after a few seconds his good arm wrapped around Dean returning the embrace.

"I'm sorry. For what I said. I didn't mean it. I need you to know that Sam." Dean closed his eyes and prayed to anyone who listened that Sam would believe him.

Sam blinked. His hand gripped the fabric of Dean's shirt. He had thought his brother hated him and this time there was no redo's or time for forgiveness for what he had caused. Charlie died. There was no changing that and when Dean said that it should have been him instead it took everything in Sam not to break. He had honestly thought Dean would never look at him the same but his brothers resolve broke as he held Sam tight in his arms in a sense that stated he didn't want to let go anytime soon. Sam would have to live with Charlie's death for as long as he lived but he could live with that so long as Dean was saved.

"I know. Dean, I know."

That's all that needed said and both brothers will have to move past it like they always did. Together.


	9. Reader's Choice- Two Stories

Hey guys! Thank you for reading 'Should Have Been You.'

As a special thanks I will be making two new stories. One being 'Fighting Darkness' and the other is one that I have been meaning to write for awhile now because I have always wondered bout this one. Anyway I will write the title of the fic and summary. I wanted to give you guys the choice of choosing which fic I should write first! You guys have been so kind to me and inspired me so much and I appreciate it. I always write a fic one at a time, except for the two Naruto fics that I haven't completed yet XD So which Story would you guys like to see first?

 _Title_ \- **Fighting Darkness**

Summary- Sam could feel it. The black veins continued to slowly stretch up the length of his neck and he could feel his entire body shake as it threatened to consume him. What if Sam had told Dean about being infected? What then? Will Dean's stop at nothing to get back to Sam before its to late?

 _Title_ \- **A Worst Kind Of Reality**

Summary- Dean wasn't the one that got sent on a trip to the future, but instead it was Sam. Sam awoke to find a future in ruin, one that he soon learns was because he eventually said yes to Lucifer. A world of Crotes prowled the streets and Sam's desperate to find Dean but it wont be the Dean he remembers.

I have searched for fics involving 5x03. I loved that episode so much. An I always wondered how Dean would act, future Dean, that is, if Sam had been the one to see the future. I mean I know I wouldn't be all that good XD Cuz Dean was pissed! Haha But was inspired to write a fic involving that when I watched the episode again.

Anyhow, please let me know which you would like to read first!


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